


Amy’s Christmas Treat

by Lysistrata



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-04
Updated: 2010-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-13 12:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysistrata/pseuds/Lysistrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor struggles to give Amy what she wants for Christmas – a jolly good stuffing. More crack, and I’m not even sorry. Deliberately ridiculous. Warnings for extremely tortuous metaphors and dodgy visuals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amy’s Christmas Treat

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for day 4 of the advent challenge on lj.

“Won’t Rory think I’m rather stepping on his toes? I have a feeling this is a rather manly... husbandly... duty,” the Doctor said, flinging his jacket away with a flourish. A marble, two crayons and some springs spilled from some of the numerous pockets, but Amy was determined that he would not be distracted from her demands.

“No, he never would agree to do this for me. Really not his... area. I knew you wouldn’t let me down - a man of your age should have vast experience to call upon.”

“Oh, reminding me of my advanced decrepitude is exactly the way to persuade me! I may be a nona-centernarian but I’ve still got bags of energy! I could pass for 300!”

“You’re stalling. Get on with it!”

“It’s just so – so – human. And messy!”

She leant back against the low bench, raising an eyebrow with an air of impatience. Clearly, “no” wasn’t going to be a viable option. Mumbling about always choosing the demanding ones, he set his shoulders, breathed deeply, and focused on the task at hand.

She passed him a warm container that she had clearly prepared in anticipation.

“Use this – it’s my very favourite.”

She felt a shock of excitement at the downright lascivious grin he flashed at her, before rolling up his sleeves and setting about his task. She rolled her eyes at his still ridiculously formal appearance.

“Don’t you ever take off that bow tie?”

“Bow ties are cool. Besides, I thought it added a certain style to the proceedings.”

She sighed theatrically, but didn’t complain further. She was, after all, rather attached to his attire, even when she’d prefer he had much less of it on. Instead, she restrained herself from giggling at the serious expression the Doctor had on his face, totally focused on his preparations. With little warning, he took a last deep breath and plunged his fingers inside, exploring.

She gasped. His fingers were deep, now, searching. Clearly pleased with his efforts, he let out a shaky breath of pleasure and removed his hand, ready to move on to the piece de resistance. Pausing only to fill his hand with the warm substance she had handed him, he returned to his ministrations. It didn’t take long; Amy had been working for hours on making sure she would be ready for his attention. She cried out as he removed his fingers, sticky from his work. She favoured him with her most dazzling smile.

“Oh Doctor, I knew you wouldn’t let me down. It’s just not as enjoyable if I have to take care of it myself.”

Smugly, the Doctor wiped down his hands and surveyed the results of his labours.

“Just like riding a bike!”

“If this is how you ride a bike,” Amy sniggered, “I think I know why there’s always so much going wrong with the mechanics around here.”

He seemed deflated at her teasing, so she slipped an arm around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder and admiring the magnificent job he had done. Stuffing a turkey was no mean feat, and after all, even when you’re travelling in time and space, it doesn’t do to miss Christmas dinner.


End file.
